


French Silk Pie, Baby

by KuriKuri



Series: Sterek Tumblr Prompts [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, EMT!Stiles, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Pie, Pie Maker!Derek, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-30
Updated: 2014-10-30
Packaged: 2018-02-23 06:39:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2537945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuriKuri/pseuds/KuriKuri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"See, your <em>angel</em> of a sister - " Derek scoffs. Cora hasn’t been an angel since she was five months old. " - agreed to date me, because my visa is about to expire and - "</p><p>"I’d have to marry you for that, dumbass," Cora butts in, rolling her eyes.</p><p>"Are you saying you <em>wouldn’t</em> marry me to keep me in the country?" Stiles asks, sounding mildly offended.</p><p>"Hell no," Cora snorts, earning her a wounded look from Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	French Silk Pie, Baby

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Español available: [Tarta de seda francesa, bebé.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10359678) by [Nevermoree](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevermoree/pseuds/Nevermoree)



> Originally posted [here](http://authorkurikuri.tumblr.com/post/101344508395/sterek-holiday-au-cora-stiles-are-coworkers-they) on tumblr. Thanks to anon for the wonderful prompt!
> 
> Trigger Warnings: choking (non-violent, accidental, but requiring medical care)

Derek wakes up to find someone else in his bed.

He freezes for a moment, mind racing, before his memories of the previous night - of commiserating with a cute guy who’d also been ditched by his dining partner - come flooding back. Relaxing, he brings up a hand to stroke his bed partner’s messy hair, feeling a flood of warmth in his chest as the guy mumbles something and snuggles further into his chest. They lie together like that for a few moments before the guy shifts again, eyes fluttering open as he looks up at Derek.

"Hey," he says, his voice a little rough from sleep as he tries to stifle a yawn.

"You’re still here," Derek murmurs, fingers still curled the the guy’s hair.

 _Stiles_ , Derek remembers. The guy’s name is Stiles.

"Uh," Stiles replies, tensing a little in Derek’s arms. "Should I not be here?"

"No. I mean, you should be here," Derek answers quickly, wincing internally as he realizes how Stiles must have interpreted his words.

"Oh. Okay, cool," Stiles says, relaxing again and giving Derek a small smile.

"There’s a good breakfast place a couple of blocks from here," Derek suggests tentatively.

"It’s - " Stiles squints over at the clock on Derek’s bedside table. " - eleven-thirty."

"Brunch, then," Derek replies, shrugging, hoping that this isn’t a rejection.

"Mmmm, you look like a brunch person," Stiles says, smiling. "Just give me a moment, and then we’ll go."

Before Derek can ask what he means by that, Stiles is ducking down and -

Oh. There’s a hot mouth on Derek’s cock and yeah, brunch can definitely wait.

—-

Brunch ends up being lunch, but Derek’s okay with that. More than okay, actually. Honestly, he can’t remember the last time a one-night stand ended so well for him - there’s a reason he typically avoids them.

"So, what do you do?" Stiles asks after swallowing a large mouthful of curly fries.

"I’m a baker," Derek admits, hoping that Stiles doesn’t think it’s too weird. People tend to find it amusing, because apparently he doesn’t look the part, whatever that means. "A pie baker, specifically."

"Dude, that’s so cool!" Stiles says, his eyes lighting up. "I can’t bake for shit."

"It’s not that difficult," Derek replies, shrugging.

"Ha, yeah, that’s what I thought, too, but then my friend and I tried making cookies and nearly burned down her apartment building," Stiles snorts, dipping another fry in ketchup. "Neither of us should ever be allowed to bake again."

"My sister’s the same way," Derek replies, smirking a little as he remembers Cora’s last baking attempt. "I could always try teaching you, though. Maybe you just need a little help."

"Sounds like a date," Stiles says, grinning and leaning over to steal a curly fry off of Derek’s plate, having depleted his own supply. Derek snorts, but lets him.

"What’s your favorite kind of pie, then?" Derek asks, slapping Stiles’ hand away when he tries to go for yet another handful of fries, earning him a wounded look.

"French silk, all the way," Stiles replies, a lopsided grin on his face.

"I should have known," Derek snorts, trying not to get too distracted by the mental image of Stiles covered in chocolate and whipped cream.

"Let me guess, you’re more of an apple pie sort of guy?" Stiles shoots back, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table.

"Peach, actually," Derek replies, giving Stiles an annoyed look, although it’s pretty half-hearted.

"Clearly you’ll have to teach me to make both, then," Stiles says. "And afterwards we can have some fun with the extra whipped cream, if you know what I mean."

Derek’s unable to completely suppress his flush. Stiles looks inordinately pleased with himself.

"No sex in my kitchen," he grumbles, as he valiantly tries to avoid thinking about bending Stiles over the granite counter. "It’s unsanitary. Not to mention that if we’re using the oven, we could…"

Derek trails off as he notices that Stiles isn’t paying attention to him, staring at some point over his shoulder with wide eyes.

"That guy’s not breathing," Stiles mutters, before practically vaulting over the table, leaving Derek more than a little disoriented.

He twists around in his seat and watches as Stiles races over to a man who’s sitting alone at a table. Derek jumps up, too, as the man suddenly sways and slumps forward against the table, seemingly unconscious.

"Call 911," Stiles orders when Derek reaches him, already busy checking the man’s pulse. "Tell them there’s an off duty EMT already onsite."

Derek complies automatically, fumbling with his phone, his palms already a little sweaty. He dials and tries to calm himself, still staring at Stiles as he moves with utter confidence, repositioning the choking man in order to perform the Heimlich maneuver.

"911. What is your emergency?" the operator asks, picking up quickly.

"There’s, uh, a man choking. He passed out and - " Derek starts, his tone unsteady with nerves.

"Could you please tell me your location?" the operator interrupts, cutting off Derek’s rambling.

"Sunny Side Up Cafe on the corner of Bryant and State Street," Derek answers automatically, glad that they’re at a location he’s familiar with. "There’s also an off duty EMT on the scene administering first aid."

The 911 operator assures him calmly that an ambulance is on the way, and proceeds to ask him a few more questions. When the call finally ends, Derek’s eyes dart back over to Stiles, who has his hand stuck in the unconscious guy’s mouth.

"Just about…" Stiles mutters to himself, face screwed up in concentration. He the lets out a triumphant noise, drawing his hand back, along with an absurdly large chunk of chicken.

However, Derek’s distracted by a sudden commotion coming from the other end of the room, and turns around to find the ambulance right outside the restaurant door, sirens wailing and lights flashing. He’s pushed to the side as the EMTs flood in, Stiles communicating with them effortlessly with rapid-fire, complicated sounding terminology.

Derek wonders if it’s inappropriate to get turned on by the sheer competence Stiles is exuding when there’s a guy who nearly died less than ten feet away.

He also wonders if it’s too soon to propose.

—-

Stiles (9:32 pm)  
what r u doing?

Derek wipes his flour covered hand off on his apron and smiles as he checks his texts. He and Stiles have been texting back and forth since that fateful date a little less than two weeks ago, even though they haven’t actually gotten to see each other much since then. Now that it’s so close to Thanksgiving, Derek’s bakery is at its busiest, and some nights he finds himself scrambling to fill every order.

Stiles did stop by once, although Derek kind of wishes he hadn’t. Watching him eat a slice of French silk pie was nothing short of torture, and he couldn’t even do anything about it, because he was working.

Derek (9:33 pm)  
Baking.

Stiles (9:33 pm)  
ur still at the bakery??

Derek (9:34 pm)  
No. I’m at home.

Stiles (9:35 pm)  
then why r u baking??

Derek (9:36 pm)  
Tomorrow’s Thanksgiving and my family wants pie.

Stiles (9:36 pm)  
lol u always have 2 bring the desert don’t u

Derek (9:37 pm)  
According to my older sister, pie and desert are not mutually exclusive.

Stiles (9:38 pm)  
i can’t believe u bothered 2 type mutually exclusive

Derek (9:38 pm)  
So did you.

Stiles (9:38 pm)  
so what pie r u making?

Derek (9:39 pm)  
Smooth subject change.

Stiles (9:39 pm)  
don’t b cliche and make pumpkin

Derek (9:40 pm)  
It’s my younger sister’s favorite. And anyway, it’s not like I’m just making one pie. I also have pecan and French silk.

Stiles (9:41 pm)  
aw were u thinking of me?

Derek (9:42 pm)  
No. Apparently my sister’s new boyfriend likes French silk pie.

Stiles (9:42 pm)  
he has good taste

Derek (9:43 pm)  
What are you doing for Thanksgiving, then?

Stiles (9:44 pm)  
i’ll b w/ my friend’s family b/c my dad lives in cali

Derek (9:45 pm)  
You’re staying in NYC?

Stiles (9:45 pm)  
yep

Derek (9:46 pm)  
I’ll have to stop by your place afterwards.

Stiles (9:46 pm)  
only if u bring the xtra whipped cream too

Derek (9:47 pm)  
I’ll see you tomorrow, then.

Stiles (9:48 pm)  
;)

Derek goes to bed smiling. Tomorrow’s going to be great. Well, as long as he can survive the family dinner, first.

—-

The first thing that Derek thinks as Cora walks through the door is, “Oh, good. She didn’t ditch this time.”

The second is, “Wait. Is that _Stiles_ next to her?”

"Hey, Der," she says, walking over to him and giving him a small smile.

"Cora," he replies, but his eyes are still fixed firmly on Stiles, who looks like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.

"This is Stiles," Cora continues, pulling Stiles forward and wrapping an arm around his waist. "My boyfriend."

"Your boyfriend," Derek says flatly, watching as Stiles tries to suppress a flinch.

"Yeah, my boyfriend," Cora replies, sounding annoyed, her grip on Stiles tightening a little. "The one I told you about. Repeatedly."

"Right," Derek says, his voice almost a growl. "So you’re the boyfriend. The one who likes French silk pie."

"Yep. I’m the boyfriend. Totally the boyfriend," Stiles answers, sounding more than a little terrified and hysteric. "The boyfriend I am."

Derek’s about to drag him into the kitchen in order to torture him slowly out of Cora’s sight, but then his mother enters the hallway, smiling brightly.

"Ah! You must be Cora’s boyfriend!" she says, before promptly enveloping him in a hug.

Derek dies a little inside.

—-

Derek spends the entire dinner glowering at Stiles from across the table. Stiles, respectively, avoids eye contact with him at all costs, while being his annoyingly charming self to the rest of the family. Derek can’t help but feel a pang of sadness in his chest as Stiles throws his head back in genuine laughter as Cora tells one of her very dry, very sarcastic, really not that funny jokes.

Fuck, it’s so hard for him to reconcile the charming guy who cut their date short in order to save a man from choking to death with this lying douche-bag who cheated on his baby sister.

Tearing his gaze away from where Cora and Stiles are happily pressed up next to each other, Derek scowls down at his plate and stabs a green bean more viciously than it probably deserves. As much as it pains him to do so, he needs to tell Cora the truth about her boyfriend. Who knows how many people Stiles has already cheated on her with?

"Cora," Derek says as they stand up from the table, holding her back as everyone else moves into the kitchen to clear plates and wash dishes. "I need to talk to you for a moment."

"Okay," she replies, eyeing him warily.

Derek ushers her over into the empty living room, scrutinizing it just to make sure no one’s listening in. Then he turns back to Cora, his heart clenching as he wonders how to begin.

"Your boyfriend cheated on you," he blurts out, making Cora give him an incredulous look. "With me. I swear I didn’t know, though. You never told me his name, and - "

"Oh my god," Cora groans, her eyes wide. " _You’re_ the guy he’s been mooning over for the past two weeks?”

Derek pauses, confused. Cora already knows that Stiles cheated on her? And they’re still _together?_

"Cora! There you are!" another voice exclaims, interrupting their conversation. "I need to talk to you about - "

Stiles freezes in the entrance to the living room. Derek does his very best to set him on fire with his glare alone.

"Seriously, Stiles? My _brother?_ " Cora huffs, sounding annoyed, but, oddly, not angry.

"Yep. Your brother. I’m a horrible, lying, cheating douche," Stiles says, walking over to stand next to Cora and looking over at Derek. "In fact, Cora’s probably traumatized now. Very, _extremely_ heartbroken and traumatized. You should probably never, ever set her up on a blind date again. We met on a blind date, you know, and - “

"She told me you met at work," Derek interrupts, frowning, as Cora lets out a long-suffering groan.

"Oh! Yeah, ha ha. Work," Stiles replies, sounding a little hysteric as he wraps an arm around Cora’s shoulders. "You got me. Looks like we’ll have to tell you the truth."

Cora opens her mouth to protest, but Stiles barrels on.

"See, your _angel_ of a sister - ” Derek scoffs. Cora hasn’t been an angel since she was five months old. ” - agreed to date me, because my visa is about to expire and - “

"I’d have to marry you for that, dumbass," Cora butts in, rolling her eyes.

"Are you saying you _wouldn’t_ marry me to keep me in the country?” Stiles asks, sounding mildly offended.

"Hell no," Cora snorts, earning her a wounded look from Stiles.

"You’d just let me be deported back to Poland, to my disappointed and impoverished family, who spent the last of their savings on my plane ticket?" Stiles asks, looking over at Cora with absolutely devastating puppy dog eyes.

"Have you even been to Poland before?" Cora shoots back, frowning at him.

"I’ll have you know that I spent the entire summer between my junior and senior years of high school in Szczecin with my babcia," Stiles protests as Derek looks on in bewilderment.

"Could you two please just tell me what the hell is going on?" he demands, glaring at both of them.

"Stiles agreed to fake date me in order to get Dad, Mom, and Laura to stop meddling in my love life," Cora answers before Stiles can say anything. "I’m sick and tired of everyone insisting that I can’t be happy unless I’m dating someone."

"Oh, Cora, why didn’t you say something?” another voice exclaims, and Derek, Cora, and Stiles all whirl around to find the entire family watching from the living room doorway.

"We promise to stop meddling, sweetiebear," Father says, rushing over to sweep Cora into a huge hug. "If we’d known, we would have stopped sooner."

Derek watches as Stiles mouths, “Sweetiebear?” at Cora, who scowls at him and subtly tries to flip him off behind their father’s back.

After that, Stiles and Derek mostly get pushed to the corner as the rest of the family dotes over Cora, giving her hugs and apologies. Derek’s pretty sure he sees a few tears in his parents’ eyes.

"So," Derek says, moving to stand next to Stiles in the far corner of the living room. "You were ready to throw our relationship under the bus in order to keep up the facade of dating my sister."

"Hey, bros before hoes, man," Stiles snorts.

"Did you just call me a hoe?" Derek asks, glaring at Stiles, who looks at him with wide eyes.

"Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the best phrase to use," Stiles says, wincing.

Derek can’t help his laughter.

"Um. Okay. So not the reaction I was expecting," Stiles continues, staring at him incredulously.

"No, it’s - it’s good that you care about Cora that much," Derek says once he catches his breath again, giving Stiles the smallest of smiles.

"So you’re not mad?" Stiles asks tentatively.

"Oh, I am mad," Derek replies, before leaning in and murmuring, "but I’m sure you’ll figure out a way to make it up to me later tonight."

Stiles blushes.

"Now," Derek continues, pulling away and clapping Stiles in the shoulder. "Cora told me you like French silk pie."

—-

Stiles does make it up to Derek. Many times, and in many different positions. The left over whipped cream helps.

**Author's Note:**

> So the scene where Stiles and Derek's date is interrupted in order for Stiles to save a guy from choking to death? That actually happened on one of the first dates my parents went on. My dad was talking about something and then all of the sudden my mom said, "Oh my god, that man's not breathing." before rushing over to save him (she was doing her medical residency at the time). So yay.
> 
> _I do not give permission to have any of my works put up on goodreads or any other such site._


End file.
